Ahka Destroyer of Heroes vs a Head in a Jar
by Margolo Blu
Summary: One shot maybe A character of mine vs Herman Von Klempt. Maybe Hellboy should have taken some pointers from this guy. Currently redrawing comic and will repost on homepage.


_Don't ask how Ahka got into this castle. Don't ask what I was thinking. _

**Ahka Destroyer of Heroes versus a Head in a Jar**

The night was dark and cold, the castle even darker and colder. The shadows were solid, thicker and more copious than cough syrup, and just as bitter tasting. The coldness was liquid and clinging to Ahka, coating him thoroughly in shivers. His IHOP shirt clung to him as if it was saturated with dank moat water.

Ahka was just about to cross a large cavernous room when a chill hit him like the time he fell asleep in front the television and left the freezer door open—again.

"Gawd! Who left the freeza open?" Ahka exclaimed instinctually.

Lights, burning in the darkness like lightening, focused on him. The shadows held him in place and the cold froze him. Okay, actually he was blinded, sorta like when the police caught him when he was twelve smashing mailboxes with his uncle's autographed lacrosse pole.

A voice whiny with a thick German accent rose above the darkness.

"WHO DARE DISTURBS MY SOLITUDE!" the voice thundered.

Ahka, half blinded by the lights and half blinded by his gloved hand blocking out the lights, could not discern the speaker from the clumpy shadows. He could make out a huge form, a mass of darkness even more concentrated than the shadows. He could just barely see a soft greenish glow, possibly liquid, and burning red eyes, red as charcoal briquettes in a grill.

"Umm…I do. Ahka Blu," Ahka answered. "And, ah, who are you?"

"I? Haha? Me?" the thick German voice answered. "I AM DOCTOR HERMAN VON KLEMPT. YOU MAY NOT KNOW ME, BUT YOU FEAR ME! I AM THE FUEHRER'S GREATEST MIND. I AM YOUR WORSE NIGHTMARE!"

The darkness moved forward, Ahka felt his legs collapse and his bladder weaken.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—Wait a minute!" Ahka exclaimed as a horrid face, eyes blank like a zombies, bloated lips, and jagged teeth complete with a swastika on its forehead came face to face with him. "YOU'RE JUST A HEAD! IN A JAR!"

The head was taken back. Then it boomed, "What? Aren't you frightened?"

"NO!"

"Why?" the head purred irritably.

"DUDE. YOU'RE A HEAD. YOU'RE A HEAD IN A JAR!"

Suddenly Ahka leaned forward, tapping on the glass container than held the head.

"Vat? Vat are you doing?" Herman Von Klempt exclaimed.

"IN A PICKLE JAR!"

"FEAR ME! FEAR ME! STOP THAT! STOP THAT AT ONCE INFIDEL!"

Herman Von Klempt jerked away from Ahka's poking assault.

"I AM HERMAN VON KLEMPT! I CONTROL 666 ARMIES OF 666 UNDEAD MEN, UNHEAVENLY COMBINATIONS OF MAN AND MACHINE—PROOF OF MY GENIUS! I BROUGH THE ALLIES TO THEIR KNEES! I PROVED GOD WRONG! NO MAN DARE RAISED HIS HANDS AGAINST ME NO BEAST TREADED ON MY GROUNDS—HEY! HEY! ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?"

"Head, just a big head…in a jar…in a pickle jar…head in a pickle…mmmm, pickles," Ahka mumbled, sitting in front of the disembodied head like a child sitting before an elder to listen to a tale of the good old times. In this case, the child happen to be a WTF with a one digit IQ and the attention span of a cockroach, the elder was a bodiless head past its prime, and the good old times involved legions of zombies and a power hungry genocidal nutcase destined for destruction.

Ahka shook his head, sending strings of saliva flying into the darkness of the room. His attention regained, Herman Von Klempt continued.

"NO ONE AS DEFEATED ME. NO ONE HAS SURVIVED ME."

He looked down at Ahka, hunger burning his pupiless eyes like a wolf watching a flock of lambs play in a flower ridden valley. A trickle of pus colored slime ran down the corner of his mouth. "SO, WHAT DO YOU PLAN ON DOING? LITTLE MAN?"

Like a contestant on Wheel of Fortune or Jeopardy (the ones who don't make it past the first round) Ahka scratched under his chin thoughtfully, his tongue hanging out of the corner of his mouth. "Hmmmm…"

The whole castle shook as Ahka reached realization, the sound of an idea clicking like an alarm clock going off.

Herman Von Klempt's eyes widened in fear as Ahka's eyes narrowed with deviousness.

Ahka's hands grasp the jar in which the Doctor's head resided and snapped it off of its electronic neck.

Suddenly, Ahka burst out into song. "You put de lime in de coconut and…

Then he shook the jar. "You shake it all up!"

"You put de lime in de coconut and…

Shakes the jar again.

"You shake it all up"

"I said now…"

"Ahka!" the head exclaimed in rhythm.

"Make you feel betta. I said now…"

"Ahka!"

HALF AN HOUR LATER….

"Shake it like a Polaroid picture!" Ahka exclaimed, violently shaking the jar.

"I GIVE UP! I GIVE UP!" a desperate cry came from with in the jar.

Ahka held the jar up, Von Klempt was barely distinguishable from the amount of froth and bubbles forming from the consistent shaking and the horrible butchering of classic songs.

"Say it!" Ahka said as the bubbles rose to the surface. "Say it!"

"Say what?" the head whined.

Ahka violently shook the jar like a child shakes a coffee can full of beetles.

"UNCLE! UNCLE! FOR THE LOVE OF THE FUEHRER! UNCLE!" Herman exclaimed, his stoic Nazi voice becoming a whiny cartoony version of what it once was.

"Gewd," Ahka said, holding the jar. He put it under his arm as the Doctor horked violently in the jar. He was just about to head out the door as a voice rose above the darkness.

"Hey Ahka! Where the hell have you been! We just ordered pizza!" Bob exclaimed.

"Woohoo! Pizza!" Ahka shouted, immediately forgetting his battle and the head underneath his arm. He threw his arms up the air in delight and ran towards the open door. He did not even hear what sounded like a goldfish bowl shattering on the floor.


End file.
